


Don't Tell

by elisetales



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M, Request Meme, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:04:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisetales/pseuds/elisetales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abel confronts Deimos about Cain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Starfighter Request Meme. The majority of this was written on my phone and so I apologize for issues of quality/spelling/typos/etc.

Abel was sure Cain hadn't meant for him to see it.

There was no way Cain could have known Keeler had sent Abel down to the fighters' PT suite to deliver a personal message to Encke (a little note, scrawled on a blue cafeteria napkin, that Abel was far too polite to unfold and read). And so Abel knew, the moment he saw Cain pressing an unfamiliar little fighter into a wall in an empty service corridor—mouthing the smaller fighter's jaw and gently tapping him on the ass—that Cain was up to no good.

Abel didn't accost Cain about it right away. Cain had never been exactly forthright, and Abel knew he'd only get defensive if he felt Abel was backing him into a corner. There was never any point in confronting him directly. Instead Abel waited until Cain was out of sight and the other fighter was alone before Abel followed him down to the engine deck, determined to hunt down some answers for himself.

Abel had never been so deep inside the ship before. He kept silent and out of sight, careful not to let the other fighter see him until he was sure they were alone. He was sweating by the time they reached the engine room—it was too hot down here; stuffy and hard to breathe—and all Abel could smell was the fuel. He felt sick, though he wasn't sure it had anything to do with the fumes.

When the small fighter stopped abruptly and leaned over a guard railing, looking down over the ship's engines, Abel stopped too.

"Abel."

Abel's heart caught in his throat. Cain had told this fighter Abel's name. He'd _known_ Abel was following him.

Abel took a deep breath and stepped forward until he was only a foot or two away from the strange fighter. He was too angry to be afraid of him.

"You know my name," Abel began. He didn't ask how his presence had been detected. "What's yours?"

The fighter turned to face him then, hands curled around the guard rail and an unreadable look on his face. "Deimos," he answered quietly, but Abel wasn't listening. Deimos, with his big grey eyes and delicate features, was quite pretty up-close. Abel felt like Cain had slapped him, and was surprised by the viciousness of his own jealousy.

He curled his hand into a fist and tried to maintain the illusion of indifference. "What were you doing with Cain?" he asked, trying not to sound like the jealous girlfriend, even if he was sure that was exactly how Cain would describe it. Right now Abel was having difficulty caring much about anything Cain might say.

"What did it look like?" Deimos retorted, and Abel felt as if he was being baited now.

He scowled and ground his jaw. "It looked like you were touching something that doesn’t belong to you. Stay away from Cain," Abel advised through clenched teeth. "He's already taken."

“Really? By who?”

“Me,” Abel coldly replied. “Cain’s _mine_.”

Deimos looked almost bored. "Oh. Well if that's how you want things then maybe you should spend less time following his tricks and more time keeping an eye on _him_. We're not the only ones, you know," Deimos innocently supplied, tilting his head to one side and regarding Abel with mock pity. "There's others. Lots of them. Cain gets bored quickly, Abel. It's nothing personal; it's just how he is."

Abel slapped him before he could think it through, unable to make himself listen to another word. Deimos slowly lifted a hand to his darkening cheek, regarding Abel with a mixture of shock and fury, and swiftly slapped Abel back, just as hard as Abel had slapped him.

Abel staggered back, shocked. Cain had never hit him. Before he knew what was happening they were scuffling—Deimos’ hands twisted in Abel’s jacket, shoving him back against the guard railing while Abel slapped at Deimos’ arms and pushed back against him, determined to throw him off. But a wet tongue sliding up his cheek caused him to freeze. It wasn't how Abel would have chosen to end the fight, but it worked all the same.

Abel recoiled, outraged and blushing furiously, and wiped the side of his face with his sleeve. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Deimos stared at him purposefully, breathing hard and licking his lips, and yanked Abel into him again by the front of his jacket, shutting him up with a bruising kiss before Abel could say another word. He flicked his tongue against Abel’s and arched his warm body up into him, sending a surge of heat straight to Abel’s cock. Abel silently cursed himself for listening to his dick and not his brain, particularly at a time like this.

“Cain was right about you,” Deimos purred into Abel’s open mouth, swiping his tongue over Abel’s lower lip and flattening his palm against the hard bulge in Abel’s pants, rubbing fast. “You are a little bitch. Good kisser, though. He forgot to mention that part.”

Abel groaned and pushed up into Deimos’ hand, less kissing now and more furious tangling of wet tongues. Deimos gave Abel's cock a too-hard squeeze, and Abel growled and bit Deimos' tongue, angrier than ever but desperate now for release.

Deimos hissed and whispered, “Such a little _slut_ ,” before there was a rush of voices and footsteps from below and the pair of them sprang apart as though burned.

Abel panted and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, humiliated and suddenly terrified that Deimos had set him up; that as soon as they parted he’d be off to tell Cain all about Abel and what they'd done.

Deimos didn’t say as much, just looked Abel over with a contemptuous little sneer and glanced out over the guard rail toward the direction of the noise. He squared his shoulders and looked back at Abel. “I’ll be seeing you,” he said cryptically, and took to the stairs before disappearing completely out of sight.

Abel unstuck himself from the floor and ran back to the lab, faster than he’d ever run in his life.


End file.
